Guard the Angel
by TwistedTrident
Summary: "I only thought about the girl, with blond tendrils as radiant as the sun and eyes of liquid silver. Tomorrow would be that day-the day that stone would be carved and the first day the world would see without her. At least, it would have been...before I dove in front of the hulking two tons of steel that would have taken her life. Before I'd saved Annabeth Chase." AU.
1. Prologue

**For all of the readers who know who I am, Ta da! I'm not dead! But I might be, considering a lot of you aren't too thrilled with my disappearance. To be honest, I'm not too thrilled myself. And no, I didn't wind up in a mental institution locked away from humanity. I'm assuming that would have been everyone's first guess. But I took a break-a longer break than I wanted to. I wanted to focus more on original fiction, creating my own stories with my own characters and my plot, but after a while, I found that I missed writing cheesy, albeit cliché tales about my favorite hero and heroine. So I'm back!**

**For all those who don't know me and had absolutely no clue that was missing, well, nice to meet ya! *waves* Go ahead and disregard that long spiel at the top. **

**Anyway, enjoy! :)**

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**Prologue**

_"What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal." ~Albert Pine_

I didn't think about my mother, about her devastation when she was informed that her only son had passed away, about her internal struggle with anger and pride when she found out how I went, about how in the blink of an eye she lost the only family she'd ever known.

I didn't think about the consequences. Blistering pain never even crossed my mind, the bone-shattering impact a faraway fact that cached itself within the inner-workings of my mind, revealing itself only when my body absorbed the blow that stole my breath...and the beating of my heart.

I only thought about the girl, with blond tendrils as radiant as the sun and eyes of liquid silver. Ear buds in her ears and tears trickling from her sad, gray eyes, she was oblivious: to the boisterous pedestrians, to the bustling city alive with glittering lights and gargantuan skyscrapers, to the world. She didn't hear the screeching of brakes as the driver stomped the pedal all the way to the floor, she didn't hear the blare of a honking horn, and she didn't see the semi as it barreled towards her at speeds that no human being could possibly survive. She swiped profusely at her tears, obscuring her sight and her only chance at postponing the headstone that would one day be engraved with her name.

Tomorrow would be that day-the day that stone would be carved and the first day the world would see without her. At least, it would have been...

...before I dove in front of the hulking two tons of steel that would have taken her life. Before I dug my grave and dove straight into it. Before I saved Annabeth Chase.

People will call me stupid, a foolish boy who'd set out to be the hero, while others will praise the lord that selfless young men and women roamed this earth, that not everyone was a self-serving monster. But either way, no matter what people said and thought about what I'd done, I would have done it again in a heartbeat. Because unlike them, I knew Annabeth Chase.

Not well, I might add, but I knew her nonetheless.

Having gone to school with her, I knew she was brilliant beyond her seventeen years and that she held a deep love for architecture. Structures, designs, along with a burning desire to build something permanent were woven into her heart and powered her mind. She had a bright future: scholarships swarming her left and right, loving parents who provided nothing but complete and total support, friends that would have leapt face-first off a cliff if it benefitted her in any way. She was a gorgeous person, inside and out. But having gone to school with her, I also knew what had diminished her bright, blistering hopefire into little more than dwindling embers.

One year ago, Annabeth had gotten into a car accident. Like most teens who'd recently received their license, she'd wanted to drive absolutely anywhere and everywhere. Her mother, Athena, had allowed Annabeth to drive her to the airport for one of her book signings, as Athena was not only a famous architect but a best-selling novelist as well. A drunk driver had drifted into their lane, and to avoid a head-on collision with the yellow Hummer that towered over her Prius, Annabeth had swerved, narrowly missing the speeding bullet; but ramming straight into the massive oak tree looming alongside the road. Athena Chase had died on impact while Annabeth had suffered only minor injuries.

Annabeth blamed herself: for not spotting the car sooner, for not jerking the wheel in the direction opposite the oak, for not fixing the airbag that could have saved her mother's life...

She spiraled into an unrelenting state of despair. No longer did she possess the will, the drive, to wake up every morning and be the best she could possibly be. Her grades slipped, her future was forgotten, but it wasn't until her father remarried that the severity of her deterioration became prominent.

Fredrick Chase married Helen Croft only two months after his wife's funeral, claiming that he needed to move on. Truth was, he didn't want to move on; he wanted to forget. Pretend that the love of his life was not the one dead and buried six feet under but the one who stood before him, alive and breathing. He shredded every morsel of a memory of Athena. Photos? Gone. Clothes? Gone. In the parts of his home where memories blossomed and their relationship grew, he remodeled, demolishing the building blocks which led to the love that was once shared and reducing it to ashes. When the only remnants were the ones that lurked in the shadows of his mind, he delved into substance abuse, guzzling booze like it was going out of style.

A dead mother, a drunk for a father, and piles upon piles of guilt stacked atop her shoulders. At the time, I didn't see how it could get any worse, how her life could get anymore twisted than it already was, but that was before I learned the truth. About her father. Her stepmother. About her.

But despite what people may think, pity was not the reason I tackled her out of the way and helped her cheat Death for the second time. Saving a life was not something I'd done out of pity, not something I'd done because I believed that doing so would cancel out all the bad acts from the past, but because she'd been through so much as it was without adding a short life to the mix. Guilt weighed her down, coercing her to believe that she didn't deserve to live. I'd saved her life because in the end, I knew she wouldn't.

Deep in my heart, I knew it was true. She wouldn't have jumped out of the way if the headphones were gone and the tears dried. I'd only talked to her a handful of times, and yet one conversation proved what I already knew.

_"Why do you drink so much?" I asked, internally cringing as she chugged her second bottle of vodka. Never being a huge fan of alcohol, I tended to shy away from any social event that smuggled alcoholic beverages of any kind. As this was the biggest party of junior year, my friends, Nico and Thalia, dragged me along for the ride. Sadly, I couldn't talk myself out of going._

_ Annabeth smirked, licking the remaining droplets from her lips, before setting the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch on which we sat. "Percy," she began, elbows on her knees, chin resting on her fists. "You drink because it's fun. Because inhibitions are lowered, and you can just let yourself go. Next morning, you can do it all over again when you wake up. That's why you drink." She grabbed her bottle by the neck and took a sip. It was impossible to assume that this was new to her, as she didn't even gasp or sputter as the liquid fire scorched her throat._

_ I opened my mouth to tell her that that was exactly why I didn't drink, but she cut me off before I could speak._

_ "I drink because when that next morning rolls around, I don't want to wake up."_

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**Well, there it is, the first chapter of my new story. Heavy stuff, I know, but don't worry, Percy will fix right up! ;) Anyways, sorry once again for dropping off the face of the earth. **

**Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! Should I continue? Yes? No? Let me know!**

**~TwistedTrident~**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello, again. I'm back and super excited for chapter numero uno. This chapter was a bit shorter than originally wanted, but I thought it was a good stopping place. **

**Oh, and I swear I have the weirdest writing schedule ever. I tried writing this chapter yesterday at 2 in the afternoon and found that I couldn't write a single word. Basically, I just sat there staring at a blank page for 20 minutes. Later, I couldn't sleep so I figured I'd try to write at least something considering I didn't write a single word earlier. And bam! The words are flowing out of my faster than fingers could type. Nothing like sleep deprivation to get those creative juices flowing, I guess. :) **

**Anyway, happy reading!**

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**Chapter One**

Darkness enveloped me, clinging to me like a fresh sheet of perspiration, sending my heart jackhammering in my chest. Unease coiled in my gut as I surveyed my surroundings, striving to find even the smallest gleam of light, but to no avail. The expanse was bathed in complete darkness, as if every crack and crevice had been meticulously sealed. A jolt of fear sent my heart into overdrive, the threat of the unknown slithering over my skin as my eyes failed to adjust to the lightlessness. It was frightening not knowing what was coming or what to expect. I could be in the heart of the lion's den without having the slightest clue that I was only seconds away from death. Although, if my suspicions were correct, death-by-lions shouldn't be an issue, as I was already dead.

A silence more deafening than an entire stadium of roaring fans settled throughout the expanse. I felt as if I'd stuffed my ears with cotton; not even my quick, erratic breaths penetrated my anxiously awaiting eardrums. It seemed as though the variation of vibrating wavelengths that produced sound had been suctioned out of the darkness and been blasted to a secret location that could only ever be reached by breaking the boundaries of the human minds in enclaves and alcoves undiscovered and unattainable.

The quiet put me on edge because now, not one, but two vital senses had been stolen from me, putting me at a great disadvantage for whatever task lied ahead. Luckily, my other senses seemed to be in order, but I didn't see how they'd be useful. Still, I tried anyway.

I stretched my arms out in front of me, swatting at the air wildly, desperately hoping to hit anything that could give me some sense of direction. Unfortunately, I didn't feel anything, aside from idiocy.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I massaged my temples, hoping to fend off the throbbing ache brewing beneath the surface. Too much had happened in such little time; my poor brain couldn't catch up. Not to mention, stress clung to me like an obnoxious babboon, cackling in my ear, its long, spindly fingers biting tender flesh.

"Percy," someone cried, their melodious voice screeching with panic.

I spun around and was nearly blinded by the sudden burst of color that met my eyes. Blinking in rapid succession, I tried to evict the sporadic, colorful spots dotting my vision from behind my eyes. When the blinking flashes finally receded, I returned my focus to the object before me.

Suspended mid-air was what appeared to be a floating threshold-a portal of some sort, it seemed. Shaped in a rounded arch, it was bordered in a white fog that, oddly enough, didn't drift away from the perimeter of the archway. The cloudy mist stayed glued to its spot, as if it had been petrified by Medusa herself. But that wasn't the shocking part. Inside its wide frame, a video played, though with further inspection, I realized it was anything but a measly movie.

Hordes of people surrounded a blond girl, who kneeled before a body. Blue and red lights flashed in the background, sirens drowning out the panicked cries of bystanders and the sobs of the girl. Paramedics rushed to the scene while police officers questioned a burly man, with a thick, bushy beard and a plump, red nose. He gestured wildly back and forth between himself and the stark white semi-truck parked beside him, occasionally tugging at the bill of his Red Sox cap to distract himself from the broken, battered body lying a few feet away. The image zoomed closer, centering its focus on the gray-eyed girl, whom I realized was Annabeth, and the bloody body beside her: me. She leaned over me, running her slender fingers through my hair, rivets of tears streaking down her face and landing silently on my cheeks.

"Why?" She whispered, "why me? Why would you do something like that for me, Perseus Jackson. Why?" She hiccupped. "And why did you have to die because of it? You're a good person, Percy, and I wish I'd gotten the chance to know you better. Deserved the chance to know you better." An anguished sob tore from her throat. "It should have been me." She wiped at her runny nose with the sleeve of her jacket, redness coloring her nose from the friction of the fabric rubbing against her soft skin. "You had your whole life ahead of you; you knew how to live, what it felt like to be alive. Me, I've been dead a long time. You should have let me die; you'd have been doing me a favor." A stray lock of hair fell into my eyes, and she gently brushed it from my face. "It should have been me."

The rest of the scene was a blur. The paramedics loading me in a black bag, zipping the metalic clasp all the way to the top, after prying a sobbing Annabeth away from me. The medical vehicle driving away, and for once, there wasn't a siren piercing through the night. The people dispersing, teary-eyed and sniffling, as they sought out family and friends for comfort after witnessing a tragedy. The doctors and surgeons performing an autopsy on my lifeless form.

But the worst part wasn't watching my body be mutilated or the cold, dead look in my eyes. The worst part by far was when a police officer knocked on an apartment door on the Upper East side of Manhattan. The most amazing woman in the world opened the door, forehead crinkled with confusion and worry laced in her posture. He relayed the transpired events, his voice solemn. When he finished, the woman's lower lip quivered, and tears spilled from her eyes before she collapsed to her knees, griefstricken.

My heart constricted, tightening into an unbearable knot that clenched tighter and tighter with each angonized cry. I wanted to go to her, pull close and hug her until her sorrows vanished.

Eyes red and throat tight with emotion, I watched as my mother pressed her hands over heart and whispered, "My boy. My sweet baby boy," before she was overcome by the ache in her chest and broke down into merciless sobs.

"Mom!" I shouted, charging full-speed toward the shimmering doorway, which portal or not, I was getting to the other side of the damn thing.

The moment I made contact, a static charge lit the air, and I was flung backwards by a powerful force.

For the first time since I'd been here, a loud crackle pierced the noiselessness-the first real noise I'd heard. The smell of burning hair permeated the air, following shortly after, which I quickly realized was coming from the singed hair along my arms and a few tufts in the front that were sporting a small flame. Soot was cemented to my face and arms, coating the exposed skin with ashes. My blue, cotton shirt-my favorite blue, cotton shirt, I might add-was tattered and torn, the oceanic fabric barely hanging on.

Another wail burst from my mother's lips, stripping my shock over the explosion? like a hard slap to the face.

I barely moved an inch, and my body cried out in protest. Pain rippled through me, gliding beneath the surface of my skin like a slithering serpent.

"Damn, that hurts," I howled through clenched teeth as I rubbed the circumference of my swollen ankle. Now, I was no expert in the medical field, but I had a strong feeling it was broken. To make matters worse, tiny yet painful blisters were disseminated about the skin there, burning the flesh with their fiery sting. Obviously, my jeans didn't provide any protection, as they were shredded and frayed in more places than I could count.

"Percy," my mother whispered, her voice catching on the end of my name.

Ignoring the pain lacing through me, I rose to my feet, steadying myself before widening my stance to go for a Round 2.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

My head whipped behind me so fast I had a severe case of whiplash, swaying on my feet from the tilting and swirling lingering before my vision. Shaking the dizziness away, I turned my gaze to the voice.

Another portal, nearly identical to one that now stood-er-floated behind me, hung in the air. I braced myself for another heartwrenching video feed, but my eyes only met the glimmering of celestrial light projected through the archway. Someone stood in the threshold, their dark sillohuete masking their face with shadows.

"How valiant of you, Percy Jackson. Willing to suffer the pain of the River Styx for the ones you love." The soft lilt proved the voice was feminine.

_River Styx? What river? _I glanced around me for any sign of a malicious river that was giddy with joy when encountered with the possibility of launching a teenage boy to what had to be at least fifteen feet in the air. Needless to say, I came up empty and felt a fresh dose of stupidity. _Gods, I've got to get out of here. This place is screwing with my brain. _

"The dead are not permitted to pass through the portal to the land of the living." With a wave of her hand, iron bars elongated from the top, bottom, and both sides of the archway, meeting in the middle and barricading the doorway. An enormous padlock in the shape of skull and crossbones was bolted into the bars.

"Why did you do that?" I growled.

"I just told you. The dead are not permitted to pass through to the land of the living." Despite what I already assumed, I was still shocked to hear that I was, in fact, dead.

"So, now what?" I bellowed, anger permeating off me like the latest perfume. _Rage. You don't have to just look like steam is coming out of your ears; now, you can smell like it, too. _"I'm stuck here?"

"Not without options, Perseus."

"Options?" I rose a brow, internally sighing. I hated options because I never could think about my decision logically. Impulsivity always won out, and I'd choose the one that I thought sounded better in the moment without actually analyzing if it was, which is why Nico always beats me at those strategy video games he makes me play. I'm more a man of action whereas Nico is always on the defensive.

"You have a choice to either stay here-" _Oh hell-to-the-motherfudging-no. _This place was already driving me crazy; I'd hate to see when I lost my mind and resorted to insanity. That's what this endless darkness did to you, it seemed. "or come with me." She waved a hand behind her, gesturing to the golden glow illuminated from within the arch's confines.

Both options were unappealing to me. Stay in the bitter darkness that would eventually drive me mad or follow a strange girl through a strange ray of light to a strange place. An innumerable amount of red flags were going up with both choices.

"Where does that portal go?" I asked, suspicion oozing from my voice like honey, sticky and thick.

She shrugged, an odd sight to see from someone who radiated such power and leadership. I imagined she would have simply forced me through the portal with her weird, magical hands, but it seemed that she was actually giving me a choice. Albeit with no help, that is.

I contemplated my options, although my opinion was horribly biased. I didn't want to stay here. Nuh uh. No way. It was dark and dreary, off-putting without the brilliant gleam of light. Yet, at the same time, I didn't know what to expect by going with the girl. Here, I knew what to expect: eternal darkness. But with her, there was no telling what I'd get myself into.

_"Take a leap of faith, Percy." _My mother's words rang through my ears, reminding me of times when the words were meant to encourage me. Now, all they did was deflate my spirit further. _"Sometimes good things can come from the bad." _

She was right, and I knew it. Sometimes good could result from the bad, the ugly. After a storm, there was always a rainbow. After the darkness settled, the sun always rose to restore the light of a new day. After death, there was still life. A life that I was going to make the best of, taking chances no matter how bleak they seem. For mom. Because she'd always told me to take a leap of faith, and here it was. It was about time I listened.

"I choose option #2."

"I assure you, Percy Jackson, your choice will be worthwhile." She held out her hand to me. "Take my hand, and we'll be on our way."

With one last glance back at the other portal behind me, I stepped forward and placed my much larger hand in hers.

Blinding light swallowed me whole, stinging my eyes from the sudden change from constant darkness. Once I was able to fully open my eyes without feeling the stinging irritation, I was rendered speechless by the beauty that stood before me.

An island, an oasis, that rendered and surpassed the beauty of the Love Goddess herself.

"Welcome to Ogygia."

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**Well, that was pretty depressing, I have to say. With Percy's mom and Annabeth. But don't worry, some happy chappies will be coming later on. Hey, that rhymes. I'm a poet, and I didn't know it. Damn, I'm good! *fist bumps the air* Lol. **

**I have a feeling that some of you might be thinking that Annabeth kind of overreacted, considering she didn't know Percy all that well. But think of it this way, if you truly believed that you didn't deserve to live, and someone did something like that for you, how would you feel? I know I would feel responsible and maybe even a little traumatized as well, knowing that a life was lost to save you. Especially, thinking that it should have been you, in the first place.**

**Anyways, hope you liked the chapter! Let me know what you think. **

**Follow, favorite, and review!**

**~TwistedTrident~**


	3. Chapter 2

**A new chapter! Yay! Although, I'd already planned how I wanted the story to go before I even posted the prologue, but I saw a different path, a more adventurous one because I thought the first plot I had in mind might be a bit anti-climatic. So I took the chance to add some adventure to the story. Though, I'm not sure what my readers are going to think of it...*Cue nervous butterflies* So let me hear your thoughts!**

**Happy reading!**

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**Chapter Two**

Breathtaking. Beautiful. Flawless.

Perfect.

Nothing was without flaws or faults; everything had a chink in its armor, and yet this ethereal island possessed no such imperfections. It broke the laws of possibility and reached something that was only a myth, a delusion, festered and grown in the depths of human thought: perfection. An impossibility with no way to be attained, but here, it had been, which meant that any doubt I had about being dead dissipated because I was in a place far more celestial than I'd anticipated.

I'd died and gone to heaven. Literally.

My eyes greedily raked over the lush green grasses swaying gently in the breeze, appearing ant-like compared to the monstrous trunks of the trees nearby, their leaves rattling as the wind swept through them. A gargantuan waterfall deluged water down into a pond in the distance, its white, crashing waves misting the air and tempting me to splash in its cooling tides. Frogs croaked and toads chirped as they leapt from leafy green lily pad to the next, the momentum sending ripples throughout the water's glass-like surface, before diving beneath and settling along the sandy floor. Flower's bloomed along the water's edge, vibrant colors framing the pond, enticing the eyes to bask in the beauty that was Ogygia. Salty ocean water as blue as the sky enveloped the perimeter of the island, its swells brushing the surrounding land, forcing debris ashore long lost in the watery depths. To my left, sheets of golden sand glistened in the blistering sun, illuminated by the bright, brilliant orange mass reflecting off the ocean's clear surface and engulfing the sky with its fiery flame.

I was in awe, struck to silence by such radiance, of an island uncharted and undiscovered, sheltered away from the destructive hands of man-kind.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The girl said with a blissful sigh as she too absorbed the beauty radiated from every tree, rock, and blade of grass.

"Beautiful doesn't do it justice. It's...stunning." I couldn't tear my eyes away from the island and all its facets. They soaked up everything the island had to showcase, every millimeter burned into my brain with incomparable detail.

"That it is," she murmured, extending her index finger as a perch for an approaching butterfly. The magnificent creature landed on the outstretched appendage, elegantly fluttering its black and orange wings in wide arcs. It fidgeted nervously as the girl reached out and stroked its wing with a finger, but calmed considerably as she caressed it with such care. With a gentle nudge, the butterfly retreated back into the sky the way it'd come.

"I'd never imagined anything so beautiful could come out of something so terrible. Death is an ugly thing, but at least when that time does come, there's something pretty to take its place." _And not a suffocating room of nothingness that torments you with videos of family and friends. That wouldn't be too good for anyone's morale._ "Heaven."

The girl giggled, drawing my attention to her for the first time, and as my eyes met hers, I nearly swallowed my tongue. She was beautiful, with soft wavy locks of chocolate-brown hair that cascaded down her back in perfect waves and flawlessly tanned skin pulled taut over a body that would be advertised in a Victoria's Secret commercial. Orbs of liquid chocolate shined brilliantly as she basked in her mirth, although what was so funny, I didn't know. An olive-green dress clad her body, hugging her chest and waist and flaring out at the hips. Its silky fabric spanned the length of her until it reached the verdant grass of the meadow, the velvety stalks tickling her bare toes.

As gorgeous as the island itself-maybe even more so-she was beauty personified, the embodiment of allure and grace. But I couldn't help thinking that her attractiveness would intensify tenfold if only she had hair a curly blond.

"What's so funny?" I asked, snapping out of my daze.

"By Heaven, I assume you mean Elysium, and I can assure you that you're not there."

_O-o-o-kay. Then if this is my hell, I must have been a _really_ good boy._

"What is this place, then. Why have you brought me here?" My tone was suspicious, accusatory, hardened by the truths she withheld and scared about what they might be. Heart rate spiking, I tried to calm my frazzled nerves. It ate at me that I didn't know who she was or what her intentions were for bringing me to Ogygia. Was she here to sacrifice me, damn me to eternal suffering, with a beautiful island as the last thing I'd see before I was swallowed by pain and sorrows? Was she a Siren, an ancient beast come to lure me to her domain only to devour me whole? Crazy a theory as it was, it seemed like the most liable option at the time.

Picking up on the sharp edge to my voice, she surveyed my tense posture and defensive stance before giving an overly exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Stop with the dramatics, Percy." She flicked a fallen leaf from my hair. "I'm not going to eat you or anything." She mocked, creepily reading my mind. _Can she actually read minds or was that just a lucky guess? _Either way, I planned to filter my thoughts just in case she was out to eat my brain like a psychotic, albeit attractive, zombie. No need to give her the upper hand.

"Come with me," she ordered, briskly walking in the direction of the cascading waterfall in the distance. "We have much to discuss."

Warily, I followed, stumbling over exposed tree roots and fallen branches as I struggled to keep up with her fast pace.

Whether I was headed for my imminent doom or my saving grace, I coerced myself to keep pace with her because my gut chose this option for a reason, and I was determined to find out what it was.

**Line Break**

After what felt like hours of stumbling, tripping, sprawling, and falling, we had made it to the enormity that was the waterfall, gallons upon gallons of water rushing profusely off the cliff-side, the whoosh of the rapids deafening against the peacefulness of the island. A light mist blew from the waterfall, providing sweet relief from the sweltering heat of the sun.

Upon our arrival, I was shocked to find a horseshoe of twelve log cabins perched beside the roaring monstrosity. They made a semicircle around a stone fireplace, smoking with residual embers, the misty smoke lingering in the air and smelling of charred wood. A number was etched in the solid wood above the door frames, numerically identifying the cabins for whoever it was they housed. As they weren't too particularly large, I'd say they could fit approximately ten people at most, but it would be a tight squeeze.

"This must be the newbie," a voice said, sounding as if it were right beside me, effectively scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

I turned and sure enough, someone stood right next to me. He was a taller boy, with curly brown hair tucked under a Rasta cap and kind eyes. A scruffy goatee clung to his chin, and stubbly facial-hair lined his face and jaw along with a bad case of acne. A green cotton shirt hung from his scrawny frame, the too-large fabric practically swallowing him whole. Tucked under his arms were two crutches, supporting his weight as he limped over until he stood in front of the girl-whose name I still haven't been told-and I.

The girl nodded. "His name is Percy."

Smiling warmly at me, a chipped front tooth peeking out at me, the boy reached out a hand for me to shake. "Nice to meet you, Percy. I'm Grover. Grover Underwood." He gave my hand a pump before turning to the girl. "How'd he die, Callie?" He asked, jerking his chin in my direction.

The girl, Callie, quirked a smile, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, before nodding at Grover. "In the best way possible to support our cause."

"Good," Grover sighed, relief pooling off him in waves. "We can't afford to have another Chris Rodriguez. Our numbers are already spread too thin. Every twenty-four hours, our numbers dwindle while theirs grow drastically. Pretty soon, they will have double our troops, and its a disadvantage we can't afford."

Callie nodded thoughtfully, pondering what he'd said, before waving a hand as if to physically dismiss the topic through sheer force. "We'll finish this conversation later. Now, we must hold a meeting. Gather the others; its time Percy finds out what he's getting into before it becomes a permanent arrangement."

"Yes, Calypso." Grover scampered toward an enormous, blue house, which I'd somehow missed upon arriving, built to the right of the cabins. His crutches pounded the grass and soil, the crunching of leaves and sticks crackling in his wake.

"We call it the Big House," Calypso informed, meaning the blue house my gaze had locked on. "It's where we hold our meetings and social gatherings. The majority of our Halfblood population is housed in there, considering we don't have much room in the cabins. It-"

Cutting her off, I asked, "Halfblood?"

I racked my brain for answers, feeling as if I were a man in a maze trying to find a way out of the labyrinth while at the same time, running from a man-eating, malicious killer. But I found no way out, no ball of twine to lead me to the answers I sought. I was confused as ever. First, they were talking about ceasing numbers like a hardened army general; next, she's talking about Halbloods. Either I'm a pawn to a horrendous roleplaying game or these people had been driven to mental instability due to the island's isolation.

"Their blood is split by two dominant beings; Essentially, they are only half human."

"And the other half?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"What do you think?" She smirked, a telling smile on her face, enjoying my discomfort. Noticing the frown tugging at my lips, she added, "Don't worry; it's nothing bad. In fact, most people find it quite an honor and value the job that comes with it."

I shrugged, clueless.

"Angel. Half human. Half Angel," she mumbled, voice dripping with awe and admiration. Clearly, she was more excited than I was. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed; I was hoping for something a bit more thrilling. A human-fish hybrid would be more my speed, as I would be able to wallow in the depths of the ocean, searching for buried treasure and basking in the coolness of a world unknown.

But that was before I realized how important a role it was.

**Line Break**

** "**Attention." Boisterous voices chatted animatedly, jabs and jeers thrown about among friends, and jokes and giggles drowned out the commanding voice of Calypso as she sought to control the rambunctious teens seated about the long wooden table. "Attention." She raised her voice yet again, but to no avail. "Attention!" Calypso stood on her chair and waved her arms to attract the attention of the group. Finally, the noise hushed.

Calypso sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face, before returning to her seat. After composing herself, she began. "You all have probably heard the rumors going around, but we have a newbie, Percy Jackson. Or at least, he will be if he accepts our humble invitation to join our cause. But before he can do that, he must learn what we stand for." She gestured to Grover, who arose from his seat to address the others and myself.

He cleared his throat before saying, "The world is full of bad people, overflowing with the hateful beasts who enjoy the pain of others. No matter how many of them are removed from society, twenty more will take their places...even in death, which is where we come in." He spread his arms wide, sweeping them toward every person seated at the table. "Every single one of us has died, obviously, but upon our deaths, we were granted a choice. A choice to rebuild the people that are being destroyed, reduced to ruins by the malicious acts of others. We get a chance to fix what has been broken, pick up the pieces of broken hearts and shattered lives. We are known as the Lares, the protectors, the guardians of those tormented by the ones who'd chosen a differing path, the Titans. Unlike us, the Titans try to make the ones we try to help further deteriorate. They encourage them to carry out bad deeds, coerce them to think dark, dangerous thoughts, until eventually, their souls will blacken with hatred and resentment. At that point, the person becomes so warped, withdrawn from their humanity, that they cannot be saved.

As of a few months ago, the Titans had started recruiting these demented souls to join their army. We hadn't understood their intention until a handful of months afterward; they want control, a shot at limitless power and unrelenting control. They're raising an army to rid the world of the Lares, so life as we know it will then be shadowed in darkness and vindictiveness, cruelty and despair.

Our sole purpose for existing used to be to repair the living people that life-and the Titans- had stepped on, but now, we have to stop the Titans before they leave irreplaceable destruction in their wake, as well. And if we must, we will go to war."

I didn't know what to say, how to comprehend all they had laid before me. My mind swirled with all Grover had said, swarming me with thoughts and questions, but they were too jumbled to be voiced. Thoughts were coming a mile a minute and weren't slowing any time soon. I didn't even know where to begin to process this.

The Lares and the Titans, the balance of the good and the corrupt, and now one side was determined to taint the entire human population, corrupting those who'd been broken by tragic happenings, in an attempt to reign over a world filled with bitterness and cruelty, to unleash mass chaos. They wanted to place themselves on a pedestal, altering and governing the lives of their subjects like vile tyrants. They reveled in heartache and pain festering inside of people, basking in every moment they could inflict even more. While the Titans sought darkness and evil-doing, the Lares wanted peace, to help those who lost their will to live, lost sight of what made life worth living. If the two groups did engage in combat, then it would be a blood bath, a war for dominance between good and evil.

I pondered all he'd said, chewing my thoughts, before asking, "How do the Titans persuade their victims to commit these acts? I don't suppose they just walk up and be all like, 'Dude, let's go smoke some pot and set off a car bomb.' I don't think that would be very effective."

"Both the things you mentioned are minor offenses to what is norm for the Titans. But to answer your question, you have to remember that these people are emotionally scarred; they yearn for companionship, someone who understands-a façade the Titans excelled at. They identify with these people, convincing them with their false understanding. Not to mention, their obvious charm and undeniable charisma tied up nicely in a bowed package make it all the harder to deny one of them."

I nodded along, although I wasn't sure I believed what he was saying. It was insane, bloody mental, but I couldn't shake the truth lingering in his words...and the depths of my mind. Bubbling to the forefront of my thoughts was a memory that I'd long repressed.

_"Attention, student's," the principal's voice spoke amiably, gathering the student body's attention with the gentle yet firm timbre of his voice. "As you all know, today is Career Day for all 11th grade students. In a few moments, all of you will be assigned a mentor that shares a common interest, with a vast knowledge of that particular field. They will provide you with vital information and tips to acquiring the occupation you seek. On the manila pamphlets you received is the job you chose a few days prior. Your mentor will have the same occupation printed in black lettering on their T-shirt. Go ahead and find your mentor now. Let Career Day commence!"_

_ Students trampled down the bleachers, pairing off with the person with the same occupation. Amidst the chaos was Annabeth. She stood beside a tall, sandy-haired boy with an angry scar jutting over his eye and down his cheek. He had a friendly smile as he gazed down at her, yet something about him was more than a little...off-putting. _

_ The way he segregated themselves from the group. Instead of sitting in an empty spot on the gym floor, he wandered over to the chipped red doors of the equipment room, stuffed full with gear and supplies essential to gym class. He kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he were about to whip out a match and set the school ablaze. _

_ Halfway through Career Day, the boy and Annabeth abruptly rose from their odd seats cached within the equipment room's threshold and made a mad dash toward the gymnasium doors as the principal's back was turned. _

_ For the first time in her life, sweet, perfect Annabeth Chase had cut class, and for what? A sandy-haired boy who looked like he was up to no good. _

_ With a start, I realized the boy was staring at me, having looked over his shoulder as he held the door for the blonde escapee, his eerie golden eyes locked on mine and a malicious smirk adorning his face. _

It was probably nothing. Just a meaningless memory I'd warped to fit Grover's story, but something about the boy, his demeanor, had seemed unreal, too friendly to Annabeth and too suspicious to everyone else.

"H-How can you tell a Titan apart from an ordinary human?" I asked, needing to be sure that my traitorous mind was just playing tricks on me. Golden eyes? Yeah right; my mind was screwing with me.

"Upon first inspection, nothing, but if you take into account their eyes, you'll notice their irises are tinged in gold," Calypso stated, confirming my suspicions with only one word: gold.

She didn't even have to say the rest of the sentence; if she'd only said gold, I would've still gotten the message loud and clear.

Fear coiled in my gut. I'd seen a Titan, been in the presence of one. He'd been at my school, posing as a normal, human teenager to scope out a favorable victim. I'd known there was something off about him. The severe quirk to his lips that twisted them to pass as a smile to an unsuspecting person but looked more like a scowl to one who vigilantly observed him. He'd been only a few feet from me, a deadly master of persuasion who reveled in torment. Not to mention, how close he'd been to Annabeth...

Holy Hephaestus! Annabeth. She'd suffered incomprehensible tragedies and blamed herself for them, pounding herself with unrelenting blows of guilt. She didn't even value her own life enough to save herself from a semi hurtling at her. Favorable conditions for a pain-inducing sadist.

Reading my mind yet again-scary but necessary considering I couldn't bring myself to form words-Calypso said, "You're worried about the girl. The one you saved."

I nodded, heart jackhammering against my ribcage.

"You're a good man, Percy Jackson, and you will be an invaluable member of our team. You are brave, loyal, and selfless even to the point of death, which is why I insist you accept my invitation to join the Lares. The way this works is that each Lare is assigned a client, the person they need to protect, to breathe the life back into. But since she is the prime target of the Titans, as her deterioration is more rapid and easily induced than most, and you already proved your dedication, I would assign you Annabeth Chase." Calypso sauntered over to a filing cabinet pushed in the far corner of the room, sliding out a manila folder, before returning to her seat at the head of the table. "Here," she said, handing me the file. "This is all we could gather about Annabeth."

I flipped open the file, eyes raking over the flimsy piece of paper with less information than was ideal. Her birthday. Her family members. A recount of her mother's demise. Nothing too useful.

"How did you get this?" I asked, waving the file before setting it back on the tabletop.

"We send scouts out to locate the more severe cases, so we can beat the Titans to them. It helps if we have something go one, to look over, before we embark on our quest to protect our protected. Sadly, though, Annabeth Chase is very closed off, drawn into her own mind, which prevents us from learning more about her and her past," Calypso stated, empathetic toward the blonde.

"So, basically, I'm like her...Guardian Angel."

"Exactly. Your goal is to take away her sorrows, her grief she keeps locked inside, and show her life is worth living. That what happened to her mother and to her is not her fault. At the same time, you have to protect her not only from herself but from the Titans and their deceptive, destructive hands, as well."

Annabeth was battered and broken, torn to bits by life and its hardships. She would not be an easy person to help, rejecting my acts of kindness in belief that she wasn't deserving of them. I could tell Calypso that I'd like a different person to protect, someone who will be easier to talk to and let me in, but I couldn't stand the thought of anyone harming Annabeth Chase more than she already was. I had a once in a lifetime chance to do what I'd hoped from the moment I met her: bring back the smart, quirky, larger than life Annabeth Chase, who wasn't weighed down by a tragic accident and a substance-abusing father.

Which is why the next words out of my mouth were,

"Sign me up."

* * *

**Alrighty, there's Chapter two. Hope you enjoyed it! **

**Also, if you didn't understand Grover's spiel about their purpose and stuff, don't worry. It was just kind of an overview; more will be explained in later chapters. But I'll give you a brief synopsis. **

**Basically, there are two differing sides: the Lares, the angelic beings who protect tortured souls, and the Titans who try to further deteriorate and harm these people. When the people turn more to the Titans than the Lares, succumbing to the bad deeds the Titans pressure, they become more and more like the Titans: evil, cruel, hateful until eventually, their souls will be tainted by resentment and malice to the point where they are so separated from their humanity that they cannot be restored to the way they once were. In a rise for power, the Titans are recruiting these fractured souls to join their army to get rid of the only force stopping them from a world of hate and mass chaos: the Lares. Without the Lares, nothing is stopping the Titans from corrupting every person to their ways. As a result, the Titans, the leaders of their selfish revolution, would rise to power and have every worldly desire attained by the people they'd converted: their not-so-royal subjects. **

**I know it's a lot to take in, especially without seeing it play out story-wise, but I just wanted to give you an idea of what to expect. **

**Wow, long author's note. Sorry about that!**

**Let me know what you think in review! I'm half excited, half nervous for the new plot, as it is something that I haven't seen done before on this site. So let me know your thoughts!**

**Favorites, follows, and reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**~TwistedTrident**


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